


fuck you (very literally)

by wanderingWisteria (hunterwho)



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Humans In Troll Romances, I'm Sorry, M/M, One Shot, Smut, aaaah i wrote this at literally midnight, and havent posted anything in forever, does anyone even like eddsworld anymore, edd and matt are just mentioned, im a piece of shit, me and my daddy kink don't deserve to live, this is so dom/sub i don't know what to do with myself, tom and tord are spades for one another, tom's trans but he had top surgery, tord couldn't give less of a fuck about tom's transness, very smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-13 13:58:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10515150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hunterwho/pseuds/wanderingWisteria
Summary: a cool tomtord fanfic, written by someone who has seen too many bad tomtord fanfics and wants to write a good one(aka watch these boys be assholes)





	

**Author's Note:**

> eddsworld is amazing 10/10 check it the fuck out if you haven't already  
> btw im mostly doing this in spite of my friend?? to piss them off? bc they hate tomtord  
> also im new to the fandom and wanted to write smut  
> this was written at 3 in the morning, please don't judge me

It was early fall, and only a few months after Tord had returned. The air was crisping up- hinting at a winter to come- and Edd and Matt had gone off, hand in hand, to get some ice cream before it got too cold for such things. Tord was enjoying some “lunch” (a chocolate bar, and a can of Edd’s cola) when he heard an exasperated yell from Tom’s room and glanced up to see the hoodied man stalking into the kitchen with a scowl.  
He glanced up at Tord and pushed his hood back, revealing his hair- what was it called, Stanley?- and his face. He approached Tord, who backed up a bit nervously until he was practically pressed against the kitchen counter.  
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, commie?” Tom’s voice, usually nonchalant, was low and dark, and suddenly the room had a chill that wasn’t because of the changing weather. It had been years since Tord had shown fear to anyone, however, and a little ‘threat’ wouldn’t change that.  
“What do I look like I’m doing? Having lunch, of course.” After a short pause, he added, “What’s eating you?”  
“What’s eating me? What’s eating me? It’s been three months since you returned, and ever since, you’ve done nothing but flirt with me. What the fuck is your deal, huh?”  
Oh.  
Ohhhhhhhhhhh.  
Of course. Since the initial chair incident to the mindless tripping in the hallway, Tord had been making Tom’s life harder. But he never intended it to be flirting- hell no, he hated Tom- but wasn’t that the point? A small, nagging voice in the back of Tord’s mind told him to play along, because Tom was actually rather cute, and he did hate him, after all. So he put on a smirk.  
“I was just waiting for you to come get me, babe. And look what we have here, huh?” That earned a growl. Tord trailed his fingertips over Tom’s jaw, almost tenderly, then shoved him back, making him stumble.  
“Little prick, you’re such a fucking tease,” Tom retorted angrily, trying to get in more words edgewise but Tord was already kissing him.  
The kiss started as something almost tender, and then Tom started fighting back, forcing his tongue past Tord’s teeth and into his mouth. He tasted of chocolate. Tord noted that Tom tasted like alcohol- particularly, Smirnoff, which he carried around in his flask wherever he went.  
He snaked his arms around Tom’s waist and pulled him closer, using his nails to dig into the hoodie’s fabric so Tom could feel it underneath. Tord broke the kiss, breathing heavy, and left Tom with a bite on the lip.  
“Edd and Matt shouldn’t be home for at least an hour. I’ll be in my room, if you need me,” Tord said, with a sugar-sweet smile and a kick in the shin for Tom as he pushed past to his room.  
Tom pushed the door of Tord’s room open barely five minutes later, storming over to Tord as he lay on the bed sketching ideas for another invention.  
“It took you that long to figure out I was offering free hate-sex? God, Tom, you really are stupid.” And that was it. Tom had had enough. He stormed over to Tom’s bed, and ripped his notebook out of his hands, tossing it aside and lifting Tord up by the front of his shirt. Tord wrapped his arms around Tom’s neck, lifting himself up enough to start sucking a hickey into Tom’s neck. Tom, startled, let Tord go, and Tord pulled Tom down onto his bed. Tom pushed himself away from Tord, slapping him across the face, but Tord was quick to pull Tom close again, digging his nails into the back of Tom’s neck and folding his legs around Tom’s back. “Enjoying a look at your old room?” Tord quipped, and Tom muttered a “fuck you, commie” before pushing Tord onto the bed.  
Tord’s back arched and he ground against Tom, letting out a small breathy moan. His resolve hardened, and he pushed Tom back until they were both sitting on Tord’s bed. Tord moved forward, biting along Tom’s jawline until he got to his neck, where he gave a particularly hard nip. Tom was trying not to show how worked up he was, instead focusing on pulling up Tord’s shirt and dragging his nails down Tord’s sides, and the slow burn of the pain was enough to make Tord full-out moan, moving a hand up Tom’s shirt as well with a smirk. Tom let out a small gasp and felt Tord’s hand work its way up his chest, until he’d pulled off Tom’s shirt and hoodie in a fluid motion. Then, Tord pulled back, standing up and taking off his hoodie slowly. Tom let out a small whine, and then realized what he’d done.  
“Tord, I hate you.”  
“I hate you too, Tom. Now sit back and let me fuck you.” Having removed his hoodie and his shirt, Tord leapt back onto his bed, pushing Tom backwards and feeling the skin-on-skin contact and god he hated that stupid little-  
Tord bit Tom’s lip, and then worked his way down, licking down the boy’s chest and stopping at his navel. With a smile, Tord reached over and undid Tom’s jeans, sliding them off with his boxers.  
Then, he stopped.  
Tom whined in annoyance, then stopped himself. “You stupid fuckwit! Why’d you stop?”  
“Oh, does daddy want more?” Tom was taken aback a bit by the term, but not turned off.  
“Oh, fuck you.” He dug his fingers into Tord’s sides. “Fucking commie. Just shut up and fuck me already.”  
“You know what? Nope.” Tord sat up, on the edge of the bed, sticking his tongue out defiantly and childishly.  
Tom was fed up with this. He was too turned on to go back. He began sliding his fingers into his slick heat. He rubbed against his clit, letting out a downright pornographic moan as he spread his wetness all over his thighs, pushing a single finger in with a breathy sigh. Tord glanced over, pretending to ignore the sight, but couldn’t tear his eyes away. Tom, fucking himself wetly, legs splayed and eyes fluttering shut.  
Despite his better judgement, he reached over and pulled Tom’s hand from in between his legs, seeing his middle finger glistening. When Tom saw what was happening, he made a conscious effort to raise his middle finger at Tord- and then Tord took his finger into his mouth, sucking around it and lapping at the digit like he was blowing a dick. When he was done, Tom’s hand dropped to his side, and Tord dropped down.  
He trailed a finger down Tom’s slit, barely missing his clit and getting a bitter, muffled “fffffffuck” from the man laying on the bed. Suddenly, he leaned down and licked Tom’s slit and holy shit, he tasted weird, but better to keep doing this, so that Tom would owe him. He began to suck lightly on Tom’s clit, tongue trailing over it ever so slightly, eliciting a stream of curses about him being a teasing commie, and Tord was done with that. He wet his fingers, and pushed them in, and Tom’s voice broke with pleasure, with sweet moans, and with Tord’s name holy shit he was moaning Tord’s name.  
“Nnh, Tord, fuck me, please, daddy-” Tom had lost any sort of recognition, his eyes shut and his back arched and his mouth pleading and whining and open, his hair messy and haphazardly splayed around his face. And then Tord pushed, hard, and Tom lost it, and with a last cry of “Tord, fuck-” he came, and Tord kissed him, and Tom tasted like Smirnoff and Tord tasted like Tom.  
Tom’s eyes opened to see Tord standing over him, wearing nothing but a smirk.  
“You owe me, and you need to get cleaned up. There’s still a while left until they get back- what do you say about a shower?”  
Fuck.

**Author's Note:**

> comments, kudos, anything for the piece of trash that is me will be appreciated
> 
> shoutout to my fellow trans boys for this sweet piece of validation


End file.
